


(And I would do anything for love) I'd run right into hell and back

by Zamara



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: BAMF Lucifer, Deckerstar is still endgame, Hell, Hurt Chloe, Hurt Lucifer, Lucifer doesn't give up, Post-Season/Series 04, So I had to write a sequel, The ending broke my heart, and neither does Chloe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-03-01 12:50:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18800713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zamara/pseuds/Zamara
Summary: Lucifer is back in hell. But he is determined to return to his love, Chloe. First, though, he has to face the consequences of his long absence. There's much to do before he can even think of returning to earth. Will he be a better king, this time, and will he ever be reunited with Chloe?





	1. Back to hell

**Author's Note:**

> First, I'm not an english native speaker and I'm writing without any beta-reader, so all grammar mistakes and bad idioms are on me. 
> 
> Second, I cried almost two days after watching the season 4 finale, and I couldn't bear the thought of Lucifer and Chloe being separated for all eternity, so I had to write this sequel.
> 
> Third, the title, of course, is from Meat Loaf's "I would do anything for love (but I won't do that)".

Lucifer was back in hell. The one place he had vowed to never return to. Not because one of his siblings had forced him, but because of his own free will. He had sacrificed everything he ever wanted, everything he ever fought for. His freedom, his happiness, his life on earth, his friends, his first and only love. _Chloe_. To hear her say that she loved him had been the most amazing, wonderful moment in his entire life. And his most painful, surpassing his Fall from heaven many times over. Leaving her had been the hardest decision in his very long life.

But hell needed its king. The demons needed someone to rule them. In some way, it was his own fault. Every time he had visited earth throughout history he had left the hellish realm without any preparation, knowing all to well that Amenadiel would drag him back to hell sooner or later. When he had decided to stay on earth permanently, he’d given a damn what happened with hell. He had been so eager to flip his dad the bird, to escape his never-ending punishment and be his own man, that he had acted without thinking.

Amenadiel had warned him back then, he had told him more than once that there were serious consequences of leaving hell unattended. Lucifer had deliberately disregarded him, rejecting any responsibility for the further fate of hell. On earth he had always referred to himself as the _former_ lord of hell, but the truth was that he had remained king of hell all the time and always would be. To protect earth and those he held dear he had to reclaim his kingdom. And so he sat high above on his throne, an unmistakable sign for every demon, every beast and every hellish creature that their king had returned.

The word of Lucifer’s comeback spread like wildfire. He could feel the uproar among the hordes of hell, a drumming and vibrating mixture of fear, rejoice and rage. He knew that he had to face them soon, showing them that the devil was finally back and that his power was unbroken.

But before that, he allowed himself one last moment of giving in to his feelings. He missed the detective, he missed her so much it was almost killing him inside, crushing his heart in pieces and leaving nothing but black despair. He couldn’t let the demons see his pain and grief, emotions like these would be considered weakness. But here, high above the ground and out of sight of any demon, he didn’t need to hide his heartache and yearning. Tears welled up in his eyes, running down his cheeks as he remembered his last kiss with Chloe. Her soft lips on his, her tender hand holding his face, the fruity scent of her hair.

A small whimper escaped his lips, followed by tiny sobs that grew louder and heavier until they turned into a piercing scream. He clasped the armchair of his throne, almost crushing the stone with the force of his grip. His white, glowing wings erupted from his back as he hunched trembling over, his eyes blazing with hellfire before his devil form took over. The scream he was still yelling turned into a thundering roar that echoed through the endless vastness of hell. It was a promise, no- an oath he swore in this very moment, that he would not rest until he had found a way to return to Chloe without risking another demon uprising.

Jumping up he propelled himself in the air, hovering for a moment above his throne before descending into the pits of hell with newfound determination.


	2. Gone

Chloe didn’t know how long she stood on the balcony of Lucifer’s penthouse. Alone. Shivering in the cool night breeze. It was if some part of her was expecting him to return every moment with his usual impulsive, exuberant glee, declaring that it was a mistake to leave and that he would stay with her forever. But he wasn't coming back. He was gone.

When she finally went inside again she felt numb and empty. Glancing around she noticed the still smashed interior. The couch as well as the armchair were still turned upside down, papers were laying across the floor and the carpet was pushed aside. The piano bench was open, several paintings hung askew and glass splinters were scattered in front of the elevator.

Seeing the otherwise neat penthouse like this felt so wrong, and without thinking she started to clean up, moving the furniture straight and picking up the mess. Stepping into the open bedroom she grabbed one of Lucifer’s shirts that lay crumpled on the floor, feeling a suddenly overwhelming need to press it to her face and inhale deeply. It still smelled of Lucifer, a mixture of whiskey, aftershave and tobacco. It was his unique scent that broke her out of her zombie-like state, and with a desperate cry she collapsed, crawling onto the bed and curling up like a wounded animal with the shirt still pressed to her tear-stained face.

She cried for what seemed hours, and every time she thought that she had couldn’t cry anymore she remembered the last moment together with Lucifer – the way he had looked at her at the balcony, his magnificent wings, his soft lips on hers, the sadness in his eyes when he said good-bye – and she started sobbing again. How was she supposed to move on? How should she return home, to Trixie, and explain that Lucifer was gone forever? How should she continue her work without her partner? And how should she forget the man – the devil – she loved with every fiber of her being? She had no idea how to find the strength to go on after all of this.

Finally, exhaustion took over and she fell into a troubled slumber. It didn’t take long, though, before the bell of the elevator startled her from her sleep. She didn’t know how long she had slept. Her eyes were red from all the crying, her cheeks were sticky and her head throbbed painfully as she sat up slowly.

“Luci? Are you here?” Amenadiel’s deep voice echoed through the penthouse. “Linda and Charlie are asleep, finally, and I thought after everything that happened today you could use some company.”

Chloe could hear him passing through the penthouse. She didn't want him to find her like that, lying in Lucifer’s bed and crying in misery, so she got up carefully. With Lucifer’s shirt still clutched to her chest she stepped into the living room. Amenadiel was already at the still open balcony door, peeking outside, but when he heard Chloe’s footsteps he turned around.

“Chloe,” upon seeing her desolate state his broad smile turned into a worried frown. “What… where’s Lucifer?”

“I saw his wings. His angel wings. They were beautiful,” Chloe said hoarsely. It was the only thing she could say without bursting into tears again.

“Oh. He got them back? That’s great?” replied Amenadiel, but it sounded more like a question as he got more and more confused by Chloe’s behavior.

“Yeah, sure, absolutely great,” repeated Chloe, trying for a smile and failing miserably. The tears she had been fighting back welled into her eyes, and it took all her will-power not to crumble on the floor again.

“What happened, Chloe? Where’s Lucifer?” Amenadiel took a step forward, putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. His comforting touch was enough to shatter Chloe’s composure and make her collapse once again.

“He’s gone.” If it hadn’t been for his strong arms that caught her just in time she would have dropped to ground. Carefully, Amenadiel led her to the couch and placed her down before he sat beside her.

“Gone? What do you mean? Don’t tell me he ran off to Vegas again.”

“Not Vegas… he went back… to Hell. He said… Hell needs him… its king… to ensure our safety…” Chloe stammered between loud sobs.  

“He went back to hell, willingly? That’s… unexpected.”

His calm reaction made Chloe upset. How could he be so indifferent? Lucifer had sacrificed everything, his life on earth, his friends, his freedom, going to the very place he utterly loathed, and it didn’t seem to bother Amenadiel the slightest. He was his brother, his family, wasn’t he supposed to be more concerned?

“Unexpected? That’s all you have to say? It’s horrible and just not fair. Lucifer’s in hell. He saved us all, he saved your son, and this is his reward? I thought you’d care more for him.”

“I do appreciate what Lucifer did today, and I’d be the last one to keep him from the happiness he deserves. But I’m not sure what you expect me to do now.”

His confusion seemed genuine, although Chloe couldn’t fathom how he could be so clueless. He was an angel, surely he knew more about all this heaven and hell stuff than a mere human like herself could ever know. She stood up and started pacing around, wiping the tears away and taking several deep breaths to calm down.

“Well… we have to do something. We have to save him. You.. you’re an angel. You can fly to hell and bring him back, right? You have to bring him back, please!” She turned to Amenadiel with a hopeful expression on her face.

Amenadiel shook his head. “I can’t.”

“You can’t?” Chloe stopped in her tracks, her brows pinched in confusion. “But you have wings, don’t you? If Lucifer could fly to hell, surely you can fly there, too.”

“It’s not that simple. I’ve never been into hell, actually, only at the gates. If I’d enter hell, I’d probably be dead in a minute. Hell is no safe place for an angel.”

“What about Lucifer’s safety? He’s an angel, too.”

“He is, but first and foremost, he’s the devil. I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

“How can you be sure? He’s there all alone. He’ll think we’ve let him down if we’re not even trying to help him. I can't do that to him. Not after all we’ve been through.”

She resumed her nervous pacing, pinching the bridge of her nose in an attempt to sort her racing thoughts. Suddenly she spun around. “Maze! She’s a demon. She can enter hell, can’t she? Do demons have wings, too?”

“No-“ began Amenadiel, but Chloe interrupted him impatiently. “Okay, but you could fly her down to the gates. She can go into hell and get Lucifer outsides.”

“Chloe, stop!” Amenadiel took Chloe’s hands, sighing. “If Lucifer wanted he could leave hell anytime. He’s no prisoner. But as hard as it may sound, I think he did the right thing. All these years he left hell on its own devices, now it’s time that he takes responsibility for what he’s done.”

Chloe glared at him and yanked away.

“So that’s it? You won’t help him? Okay, fine. I’ll do it alone, then.”

Amenadiel opened his mouth for a response, but Chloe ignored him deliberately, turning his back on him and marching to the elevator where she pushed the button several times ferociously. Gone was her despair, gone her grief, replaced by a fierce determination that pulsed through her body like electricity. The lift doors opened almost instantly with the usual ‘ding’. Stepping inside Chloe gave Amenadiel a last, grim look.

“Just for the record, I love him! I’ll find a way that he can return to earth, and if it’s the last thing I’ll do.”


	3. The executions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ### Sorry, I deleted the previous version of this chapter, because as several comments pointed out correctly it was too out of character for Lucifer. Sorry again! So this is my second try, hopefully better this time! ####

Dromos had been right when he said that Hell was in bad shape. After eons without any leadership and control the demons had started to raid and loot the realm, stealing everything they considered precious or useful and leaving nothing but destruction.

The corridors to the cells were rutted, many were blocked by rubble and trash was piling everywhere. Countless dead demons lay around forgotten, the stench of their rotten flesh amplifying the already moldy air of hell to an almost unbreathable extent. Huge parts of the demon quarters had been destroyed by constant fighting, the walls demolished and the roofs collapsed. A distinct part was even flooded as the rivulet of one of the many tributaries to the river Styx was blocked by the remains of a crumbled bridge. Debris, junk and demon corpses were drifting under the surface and the murky black water stank like a cesspool.

Not even Lucifer’s palace had been spared from vandalism. His private quarters, the throne room, the great assembly hall – everything was just ruins. There had been a time when no demon would have dared to trespass into his chambers, given that the punishment for unauthorized entering was death. He wondered briefly how long it had taken before the first demons had been brave enough to enter his empty rooms. Only years? Or a few centuries?

However, the end result was the same: Hell was wasted. No wonder the demons had begun to rebel. Not that Hell had been a spa resort before, but this was even for hell standards unbearable.

Rebuilding his quarters as well as the rest of Hell had to wait, though. First he had to officially announce his return and prove to all denizens of the underworld that he still wielded the true power of Hell. Luckily there was the perfect opportunity to put his solely claim to power to the test - he would punish Dromos, Squee and all the other demons who participated in the riot, making sure no one would ever dare to try a possession again.

The hell hordes had gathered on the vast plain south of the demon housing areas, where eons ago Lucifer had crashed to the ground like a flaming meteor after his fall from heaven, leaving a mile-wide crater from his impact. In the middle of the crater was a huge makeshift platform with two wooden poles. Dromos und Squee, now back to their usual ugly demon forms, were chained to the stakes, whereas the other demons who had taken part in the uprising kneeled behind them. They were fifty-seven in total, and most of them waited in silent surrender as they anticipated their punishment.

Lucifer stood on the platform in full devil mode, dressed only in his suit pants and with his leathery wings spread wide, glancing around the thousands and thousands of demons that crowded the crater flanks up to a few yards to his position. It was a chaotic crowd, with demons pushing and shoving all over everywhere. Every now and then a turmoil turned into a violent fight between different clans while everyone tried to get a place as far up front as possible. The clamor was deafening, and Lucifer had the distinct feeling that he could literally wait for all eternity for them to calm down.

Taking a deep breath he stepped to the edge of the platform and roared, “Quiet!”

With grim satisfaction he watched as the shouting stopped almost instantly.

“I am Lucifer, King of Hell, ruler of all demons, and you will bow to my command!” Lucifer proclaimed. His deep, powerful voice resonated easily across the open plane.

A wave-like motion rippled through the crowd as all demons knelt down. He felt a surge of power flowing through his body as the demons surrendered to his will, a special connection to Hell's very own force that burned inside him like liquid fire. In the past he had always despised this link, thinking it was just part of his punishment, an attempt to chain him even more to this place. But now that he had finally accepted his destiny, he embraced it entirely, letting it fuel him like a dark infusion of infernal energy.

Eyes blazing with bright hellfire Lucifer slowly turned to the leaders of the failed rebellion. Squee flinched under his piercing gaze, his pale, snake-like body trembling in fear. Dromos, though, remained seemingly unwavering, only the sweat forming on his forehead and running down his pitch black skin gave away his anxiety.

“Dromos and Squee of the Lilim. You and your followers are accused of illicit possession and attempted usurpation, which equals high treason. Do you plead guilty?”

Dromos remained silent, giving Lucifer only a contemptuous glare that made clear he didn’t regret anything. Squee, on the other hand, began to squirm.

"My Lord, forgive me, it… it wasn’t my fault,” he squealed, his long forked tongue flicking back and forth from his mouth. “It was all Dromos’ idea. If it wasn’t for him, I… I’d never disobeyed your orders. But he… he said this dead church guy told him you wanted us on earth.”

Squee’s miserable attempt to blame Dromos was no surprise to Lucifer. He had always been one of the lowest demons, a yellow-bellied traitor without honor or backbone. His pathetic babbling brought him only disgust and contempt from those demons who stood close enough to hear him. They began to howl and to roar, but one swift wink of Lucifer’s hand was enough to silence them again.

Stepping beside Squee he hissed, “Oh, did he? And since when does the word of a human maggot, a bloody priest of all people, count more than that of your king?”

His red, scarred face was only a few inches away from Squee as he loomed over him. The small demon shuddered wildly, his eyes widening in sheer terror.

“I-It was a terrible mistake, m-my Lord. A-And I’ll never do it again, I-I swear,” Squee stammered desperately. Lucifer gave him a menacing grin.

“No, you won’t do it again, I will make sure of that!”

He began to circle around Squee, who jerked his head from side to side as he desperately tried to keep an eye on him.

“So, which part of your filthy, traitorous body shall I rip apart first? An eye? An arm? Or a leg?” Lucifer asked placidly, as if he was merely listing fashion choices and not horrible ways of dying, but the hellfire in his eyes belied his calm casualness. Squee started to rattle his chains in panic, pulling and struggling like a madman.

“No, no, no. P-Please, my king, d-don’t! I-I’m sorry, please, I’m so s-sorry!” He stammered. The unmistakable stench of pee filled the ashen air as a yellow puddle gathered under his feet. His whiny babbling was nauseating, not to mention that no demon, who still had a single ounce of self-esteem, would ever wet himself. It was about time to exterminate this pathetic excuse of a demon once and for all, and Lucifer had just the right idea where to start.

He stopped in front of Squee and forced his jaw open, grabbing his thin tongue and ripping it out. Squee’s whimpering turned into a shrill shriek. Green blood gushed from his mouth. But Lucifer wasn’t done with him yet. His sharp, claw-like fingernails sliced his belly open, and with a quick pull he yanked out the slimy, stinking guts. With the same, devilish strength he finally cracked Squee’s ribcage, ripped out his heart and crushed it in his fist.

A murmur went through the demons, quickly turning into whistling, stomping and howling. It wasn't long before the first cheers were heard.

“Hail Lucifer! Long live the king!”

More and more demons joined in until the whole underworld was chanting with ecstasy. Tossing the bloody remains on the ground Lucifer watched the exuberant crowd, an unreadable expression darkening his gaze. Eventually, the shouting ebbed away and he turned to the remaining demon leader who still deserved to be punished by him personally.

Dromos.

Having to watch Squee getting slaughtered by Lucifer hadn’t left him unaffected, leaving no sign of the confident composure he had shown in the beginning. Now he glared at Lucifer, who sauntered to him with a predatory gleam in his eyes.

“Do you still think I’m getting soft and mushy?” Lucifer taunted, his dark grin getting even wider as he clutched Dromos’ shoulder with his blood-soaked hand until he  winced.

“No… my King. Now… get over with it and finish me.”

“Uh-uh-uh,” Lucifer waggled his index finger like a father scolding his child, “Where would be the fun in that?”

With a brief flick of his wrist he released Dromos from his shackles, the heavy chains cluttering to the ground. The demon huffed surprised, but his astonishment grew even wider as Lucifer transformed into his human form and presented him a black, curved blade.

“What do you say? Man against man. Well… more like demon against Devil, but let’s not get too nitpicky. Now come on, fight me!” He stepped back and spread his arms wide, showing that he was in fact unarmed.

Dromos knew that he was no match for Lucifer, even with the knife as an advantage on his side. It was just a game, a show to demonstrate the absolute superiority and dominance of the Devil. He had to give him this, after today surely no one would doubt his sovereignty anymore. Too bad he wouldn’t live long enough to experience this new era, for he would have loved to serve under such a powerful and terrific emperor. Now all he could hope for was an honorable death.

For a moment they circled around each other, both waiting for the other to make a move. But soon enough Lucifer got bored and scoffed, “Uh, are you going to use this handy potato peeler sometime or not? I don’t have an eternity. Well, actually I have, but I’d like to finish this fight-club contest as soon as possible, so I can go home and relax, eventually. Maybe visit some old souls for a little torture, you know."

His sarcasm did not miss its effect. With a growl Dromos dashed forward, slashing the knife from side to side. He was a strong fighter, actually, but he had neither the efficient precision of Mazikeen’s fighting style nor the strength of an angel like Amenadiel. Lucifer dodged him effortlessly with a graceful, almost dance-like twist on his heels. He shoved Dromos from behind with the palm of his hand, sending him straight to the ground. The demon grunted as he hit the floor, but he wasted no time, jumped up and attacked again. Once more, Lucifer had no trouble fending off his attack. He blocked the hand holding the knife with his left arm while punching Dromos in his face with his right elbow.

Stumbling back with a half suppressed cry of pain Dromos held his broken nose, but he recovered quickly. He spat out some blood and wiped his mouth, then he let out a furious roar and stormed towards Lucifer. He managed to push him back near the edge of the platform as Lucifer focused merely on avoiding getting stabbed by the knife while they traded a series of blows and kicks.

For a brief moment Dromos thought that he actually might have a chance to survive this fight, but soon the tide turned again when he got struck by several direct hits from Lucifer. He tried his best to ward off the punches, but the sheer force of the blows he had to take nearly knocked him out. In a desperate attempt to gain the upper hand Dromos lunged forward with the knife. Ducking under his slash Lucifer threw an uppercut at Dromos’ chin, followed by a kick to his stomach that was strong enough for the demon to fly back several yards through the air.

“Oops, did that hurt? You’re lucky it was just your fat belly. One foot lower and you’d be hearing hell’s bells forever,” quipped Lucifer. Surprisingly, he didn't use Dromos’ moment of weakness for a counterattack, instead he rolled his neck and his shoulder muscles and waited until the other was ready to fight again. The watching demons, though, got agitated and started to hoot and bawl, apparently dissatisfied by the lack of action and violence.

Dromos rubbed his aching jaw. Panting he gathered what was left of his strength, and with one last look at Squee’s mutilated body he raised his knife and attacked one more time. Like before Lucifer merely dodged his knife attack by blocking his arm, but this time Dromos managed not to budge and place several blows to Lucifer’s chest instead. Lucifer countered by grabbing his left fist and using his momentum to swirl him around. The sound of breaking bones could be heard as Lucifer dislocated his shoulder and crushed his arm. The next moment Dromos got kicked from behind in his knee and fell to the ground, losing the knife in the process. When he rolled over and tried to grab the knife that had clattered down just beside him, Lucifer stomped on his hand, crunching every bone in it. The anguished scream that escaped his lips was stopped by Lucifer’s violent grip around his throat. Despite his sturdy, bulky stature, Lucifer lifted him into the air, effortlessly.

“Game over,” he smirked, calling upon the hellfire and channeling it through his body up to his arm and hand. The rush of power felt incredibly good, and he couldn’t help but enjoy the growing arousal that shivered down his spine and made his pants tight. His eyes burned red and the air began to flicker as he shifted back into his devil form. Small flames erupted from his fist, seizing Dromos’ clothes and then his skin. Dromos started to scream, a high-pitched shriek of utter torture and pain as the flames spread over his body, engulfing his torso, his limbs and finally his face. For a moment he burned like a torch, the flames melting away his flesh, before Lucifer dropped him like the literal hot potato.

The disgusting stench of charred flesh was wafting through the air, but he ignored the still smoldering cadaver and nodded to one of the demon guards instead.

“Finish the rest,” he said coldly.

Immediately, several demons armed with hell-forged blades stepped through the ranks of the remaining prisoners, slitting the throats of each with a swift, precise movement. One after the other fell to the ground until the last demon rebel was executed.

Lucifer turned to the tense demon audience, straightening up to his full, devilish size once again.

“Let this be a warning to you. I will tolerate neither disobedience nor betrayal. Death will be the punishment for every offence. Now leave,” he ordered.

Slowly, the demon hordes began to dissipate. By the way they were bowing down before him and looking at him he could tell that he had reached his goal: He was once again the unchallenged ruler of Hell.

Unfortunately, this gave him less satisfaction than he had expected. Instead, a strange, prickling sensation spread over his skin, making him feel somehow filthy and giving him the urgent need to wash himself. Without further thinking he lifted himself up in the air and left it to the demon guards to remove the disgusting remains of the executions.

He flew and flew until he was too exhausted to flap his wings anymore. There, far away in the outer rim of Hell, he landed on the shore of a muddy pool. The smell of sulfur lingered in the air. The water wasn’t clean by any means, but it was better than nothing. He tried his best to clean his blood-stained hands, arms and even his face, tinting the stale water with a swirl of greenish hues. Usually he hated to be alone, but after what had happened today he was grateful for the solitude of this place. No demon used to come here since it was too far from all the populated areas.

Deep in thoughts he stared at his reflection in the surface of the pond’s water. His eyes were still glowing with a fiery red color. His bald skull was covered with burns and scars, and his upper body was even more deformed, a mangled and gnarled mess of blistered red flesh and bones. It was an image from a nightmare. A true beast.

Shifting to his human form he closed his eyes and sighed. He wondered what the detective would have said if she had witnessed what he did today. Would she still see the good in him or would she suddenly realize that he was, after all, the abominable monster everyone thought he was?

He had always prided himself to punish only the guilty, emphasizing that he was only doing his dad-damned job. He didn't torture just for his personal pleasure, and yet he couldn't deny what he had felt during the punishment of Dromos and his consorts. Delight. Excitement. Lust. Even a certain arousal.

He knew that his brothers and sisters usually felt great joy in carrying out their duties. Yes, sometimes it was hard, Azrael, for example, surely could tell a piece about it, but all in all they took great satisfaction from their work. Was he allowed to feel the same way? And what did that say about him if it was so?

He would have loved to talk to Dr. Linda about it, she certainly could have helped him sorting out his thoughts and feelings. Too bad she wasn't available down here. Maybe he should find himself a new psychiatrist. After all, it wasn't like there weren’t enough of them in Hell. It was definitely worth a try. But first he had to take care of more important things than his inner well-being. After all, hell would not rebuild itself on its own. And so he spread out his mighty wings again and made his way back to the center of hell.


	4. Lost in translation

Six weeks had passed since Lucifer’s return to hell. Dealing with her own pain had been hard for Chloe, but telling the others that Lucifer was gone and wouldn’t return had been even more difficult, especially since she still missed him so much she was more than once on the verge of breaking down from all the grief that filled her heart and her soul with a constant heavy weight.

Maze had been, well- Maze. Upon hearing that Lucifer had left for hell she had yelled and cursed, threatening to rip his wings off and beat the crap out of him with them if she ever saw him again. It was obvious she was hurt that Lucifer had left her behind. As frightening as her rampant rage was, at least she knew that it was no metaphor that Lucifer was back in hell and therefore Chloe didn’t have to cover up what had happened.

Telling Ella and Dan, though, had been more complicated. For a while Chloe had played with the idea of simply telling them the truth just like Lucifer had always done, leaving it to them to fathom the reason for his departure. But eventually she had opted for a more diplomatic way, saying that Lucifer had returned home permanently for urgent family business. Which still was, in a way, the truth.

Ella’s reaction had been typical as well, resulting in a very long hug and a promise for a soon coming tribe night. Dan, on the other side, had surprised Chloe. She had expected him to make some snide comments about Lucifer’s unreliability or even some relief for not having to endure him anymore, seeing that he and Lucifer hadn't gotten along too well in the last few months. But instead Dan had been rather quiet and contemplative, with an almost disappointed look on his face. She wondered if it was because he had no more chance to try and sort things out with Lucifer.

Last, but not least she had told Trixie. Again she had been surprised, because her little monkey had reacted amazingly mature for her age with no screaming and almost no tears, even when Chloe had to explain that she could neither chat nor e-mail with Lucifer. Trixie had simply stated that she would write a letter for Lucifer then, and Chloe hadn’t had the heart to tell her that even a letter wouldn’t reach him. At least that was what she thought, in fact she had no idea if Amenadiel could deliver a letter to hell or not, and after her last conversation she wasn’t too keen on asking him.

She was, though, still hell-bent – pun absolutely intended – to find anything that could prove that it wasn’t dangerous anymore if Lucifer returned to earth. Whenever she found the time, which wasn’t as often as she wished since she was still a full-time working single-mom, she studied whatever book, text or scripture she could find about the devil and hell.

This evening was no exception. Trixie was with Dan, her latest case was successfully closed, and so she used her free evening with reading and researching.

Hours later, Chloe yawned and stretched on the chair. Her neck was stiff and her eyes were already stinging. But the few books about the devil she had kept from her visit in Europe were absolutely useless. Their depicture of Lucifer as well as hell were not only contradicting but full of exaggerations, false accusations and the kind of horror stories Father Kinley had used to manipulate her and fuel her fear up to the point where she almost tried to kill Lucifer. Something, she still couldn’t forgive herself.

Her reaction to his devil face may have been not the best, given how many times he had warned her about his monstrous side and telling her right from the start that he was indeed the actual devil. But going behind his back and betraying his trust had been so much worse. She should have listen to her heart, should have known better, known _him_ better. For that alone she owed him, and she wouldn’t stop until she found a way to end his self-chosen exile.

Too bad Father Kinley was dead or else she could have asked him more about the prophecy. Where did he read about it? It wasn’t mentioned in the bible or in any of the books she had read so far. Was the part about the Devil walking on earth, finding his first love and releasing evil all that was written in it? Maybe there was more, something Kinley didn’t tell her, something that could help her convincing Lucifer that his return wouldn’t trigger the apocalypse.

With a frustrating sigh she pushed the open books away. Useless. It was all so useless. Either this whole prophecy thing had been a complete figment from Kinley or she simply didn’t have access to the required resources. Which was no wonder, since she was only a simple cop. She couldn’t hardly go to the Vatican’s library and ask if they would kindly give her the original writings about the Devil’s prophecy so she could free him from hell again.

She was about to give up for today when suddenly an idea struck her. Maybe she didn't actually need the library of the Vatican, maybe the library of the actual devil was much more helpful! Lucifer had a huge library in his penthouse, it wasn't too farfetched to assume that he had also numerous books about religion. Maybe she could find some information about the prophecy there at last.

She glanced at her phone. 11 PM. Not too late to drive to Lux and have a first look at Lucifer’s book collection. Grabbing her car keys she left the house and headed to the night club. The night traffic was light, twenty minutes later she had reached her destination and parked near the back entrance. Despite its name Lux was dark and empty. No music was pulsing through the air, no waiting queue winded itself around the building. After Lucifer’s departure Chloe had thought that maybe Maze would take over the night club, but she had declined, saying that without Lucifer the club wasn’t the same and that she had her own life now. So, the most famous night club of Los Angeles was closed for good.

Luckily for Chloe the elevator was still working. On her ride up to the penthouse she rubbed her hands nervously on her jeans. She hadn’t entered the penthouse since that very night, and memories of white coated furniture flashed in her mind. But when the elevator doors opened everything was of course as it had been last time.

Slowly Chloe walked to the back of the penthouse where the floor-to-ceiling bookcases stood. The last time she was in this part of the penthouse had been on her getting-too-drunk-and-sleeping-alone-in-Lucifer’s-bed-birthday-party with Linda and Dan, and once again she felt like an intruder. Carefully she ran a finger over the spines of the books. There were books in many different languages, most of them rather old and valuable looking. She had no doubt that the majority were first editions. She spotted a German version of ‘Faust’, several Italian writings like ‘Il Decamerone’ from Boccaccio and Dante’s ‘Divine Comedy’ – the latter, though, gave her the creeps as she remembered reading it while being in Rome with Father Kinley – a French book written by none other than the Marquis de Sade and some Greek and Russian novels she couldn’t even read the title of. An unmarked leather folder caught her attention, upon opening she saw that it contained a very ornate and especially very graphic edition of the Kamasutra. Of course. If Lucifer were still here he probably would have told her that he had inspired the author to at least half of the illustrations.  

Putting the folder back, Chloe stepped to the next shelf. Glancing over the rows of books she hummed triumphantly as she noticed at least ten different Holy Bibles. It seemed as if she had found the religious section of Lucifer’s book collection. She ignored the foreign language editions and collected those that were in English. Who knew that there were so many versions of the same book, and who would have guessed that the devil of all people would own them all?

Next to the bibles were other books with even more promising titles, like _‘Satan is Alive’_ , _‘The 1980s: Countdown to Armageddon’_ , _‘Understanding Prophecy, A Biblical-Theological Approach’_ , _‘Pseudomonarchia Daemonum, Illustrated English Translation’_ , _‘The Apocrypha: Including Books from the Ethiopic Bible’_ and _‘Codex Gigas, The Devil’s Bible’_. Chloe took them one by one and stacked them next to the bibles on the nearby desk, before she sat down, opened the first volume and started reading.

Days turned into weeks as she visited the penthouse as often as she could to study the new books. It was a long and arduous task, but slowly her efforts paid off as she finally found the first mention of the prophecy. Taking notes on her notepad she gathered more and more information while following the clues from one book to the other like breadcrumbs in the fairy tale of Hänsel and Gretel. Eventually though, she reached a dead end, not least because of her limited knowledge of foreign languages.

“Damn. I’m so close, I can feel it. Maybe it’s time to get some angelic support,” she muttered to herself and grabbed her phone, sending a quick text to Amenadiel.

A gush of wind together with a rustling sound of feathers on the balcony startled Chloe only a few minutes later. For a split second she thought that maybe Lucifer had returned, but then she spotted the dark, sturdy figure of Amenadiel coming in. The belated realization that he, as an angel, of course could simply fly over here, didn’t ease the pang of disappointment she felt. She wondered briefly if all angel wings were as white as Lucifer’s or if his had an unique color.

“Amenadiel. Thanks for coming. That was really… quick. You really didn’t have to… well…,” she said and made a flapping motion with her hands.  

Amenadiel shrugged his shoulders.

“It’s easier than getting an uber at this hour. Besides, you texted me that you have important information about the prophecy. Of course I came as fast as possible. What is it that you found?”

“The prophecy. Right.” Chloe turned to the desk, shuffling several books aside as she tried to straighten the mess a little.

“Well, as you probably know, I’ve been doing some research about the prophecy over the last few weeks. I searched the internet and looked in every book and every text about the devil I could get, from the bible up to the Milton’s ‘Paradise Lost’, but it’s nowhere mentioned. Then I came here, ‘cause, you know, where would you most likely find books about the devil if not in his own library? And then I found this apocrypha book,” she pointed to an open book on her desk. “There is a chapter called ‘The Apocalypse of Ezra’, and it contains in fact Kinley’s prophecy. But- I’ve found references in other books saying that this text about the apocalypse originally consisted of several sources and was only merged much later. The original script goes back to some kind of Sumerian text, something about a golden book of fire, but I have no idea how to find this strange book, let alone read it.”  

Amenadiel had listened patiently to her ramblings, but when she mentioned the golden book he froze. It couldn’t be, could it? He knew for sure what book Chloe was talking about.

“A Sumerian golden book? Of course. I should have known.”

He went to Lucifer’s library and stepped straight to a particular shelf, before he pulled out a metallic looking book and returned to Chloe, placing the book with the massive golden pages on the desk. It was the same book in which they had found the last hint for the three pieces of the flaming sword. Back then they had never bothered with translating the rest of the book.

“Actually, it’s called the _‘Book of Nabu’_. He was the Sumerian god of scribes, writing and wisdom,” Amenadiel explained, turning the heavy pages until he found the passage Chloe had described.

“Here it is, the prophecy about the devil,” he ran his fingers over the engraved symbols and began to read out the Sumerian text. “ _U mulla xul du ki ma pa-de nam-ki-ana san-ne-a, pul a-buru._ ”

The ancient language sounded funny, yet surprisingly melodic and powerful.   

“So, what does it say? Is it the same as the prophecy we know?” Chloe asked after Amenadiel had finished reading. The angel frowned and stared at the inscription.

“I’m not sure. The first part is identical. ‘When the Devil walks the earth and finds his first love’. But here,” he tapped at some weird looking symbols at the end, “It says ‘evil will be _buru’_. _Buru_ has several meanings. One is to release, that’s what Kinley was referring to. But the other, more common is to dissolve or to vanish.”

“What?” Chloe’s jaw dropped. “So you’re saying that at some point someone screwed up the translation and the real prophecy says ‘When the devil walks the earth and finds his first love, evil will vanish’?”

“That’s correct.”

Chloe’s face broke into a delighted grin as she nodded enthusiastically.

“Wow. That’s fantastic. ‘Evil will vanish’ means no apocalypse, right? And no apocalypse means Lucifer can come back safely. We have to tell him about the wrong translation. Please! I- I know you said you don’t want to fly to hell, but this- this is different. You’re the only one who can tell him!”

She looked at Amenadiel with such a hopeful, pleading expression that the angel couldn’t help but agree with her.

“You’re right. I’ll try to speak with Lucifer. He has a right to know the truth about the prophecy. But Chloe, I can’t promise anything. We don’t know what happened in hell since, and if he’s…”

He didn’t finish, but Chloe knew what he meant. No one knew if Lucifer was well and alive. But for the first time in weeks she had hope. Hope for Lucifer. For _them_. She wouldn’t let any doubt take that away from her.

“Well, then let’s not waste any more time. How long before you can fly… down?” Chloe asked. Amenadiel sighed.

“I guess now is as good as any time. Time runs different in hell, so it won’t take too long, hopefully. Linda’s with Charlie at home and I’d like to be back before they’re going to sleep.”

Chloe nodded, before she approached him tentatively and gave him a brief hug.

“Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

After she let him go Amenadiel took several steps back and rolled his shoulders. A beautiful pair of dark grey colored wings appeared behind him. Chloe watched intrigued as they fluttered slightly. So angels had indeed different wing colors. Before she could ponder for too long about the irony that the devil apparently had the most radiant and awe-inspiring wings, Amenadiel turned around and vanished with a strong flap of his wings.

While Chloe remained on Earth, he easily crossed the barrier between Earth and Hell and landed smoothly in front of the large, massive gates to the Underworld. A single, werewolf-like demon guarded the gate. When Amenadiel approached him he pointed a battered spear at him.

“Go away, angel, you don’t belong here!”

Unimpressed, Amenadiel crossed his arms before his chest.

“Go and tell Lucifer, that his brother needs to talk to him.”

“I don’t take orders from a bloody angel,” the demon hissed. Amenadiel merely lifted an eye-brow, before he grabbed the demon by his furry throat and slammed him to the nearby wall.

“I won’t repeat myself. Now run, find your king and deliver my message!”

Carelessly he pushed the demon to the ground. The creature howled miserably before running on all fours through the gate with his tail pinched. Frowning Amenadiel looked after him, hoping that the demon would really deliver his message and he wouldn’t have to wait too long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** The religious books I mention, apart from the Flaming Sword Book, are all real and not fictional, although I didn’t read them. ‘The Apocalypse of Ezra’, which can be found in the so called Ethiopic Bible, does not contain Kinley’s prophecy, though, that part was made up from me. For the Sumerian part I used, of course, several online translators. According to my sources the word "buru" translates indeed to both release and vanish. I found it rather cool and fitting. 😊


	5. A new order

Rebuilding hell was, well- hell. After the worst clutter in the cell area had been cleaned up they had begun to restore the demon quarters. With the sparse resources hell provided it was a slow and arduous work, even more so as the demons were great when it came to destruction but really poor at rebuilding. It took years to fix even half of all the demolition. At least Lucifer’s palace and private rooms had been rebuilt quickly – one of the small perks of being king of this dreadful place.

The enormous building rose majestically on a hill above the demon dwellings. Its black stone walls, iron-clad gates, massive towers and parapets formed an impressive fortress of power. The rotten heads of Dromos and Squee were impaled on spears, flanking the entrance to his castle as a permanent remainder for all demons to never go against their king again.

The interior was no less magnificent. Elegant furniture decorated the generously dimensioned rooms. If someone of Lucifer’s friends had been able to visit his private chambers, they would have noticed the resemblance to his penthouse, albeit without the piano and with a considerably less beautiful view.

With his long legs crossed Lucifer sat on his throne in the huge throne room. The throne there was an almost exact copy of the one atop the spire, with just a slightly smaller back and some added cushions for at least a little bit comfort. Several broad steps lead to the elevated seat in the middle of the room. Numerous torches mounted on the walls illuminated the hall with a flickering light.

A gaunt demon, half human and half lizard looking, approached him with timid steps, bowing reverently as he kneeled down before Lucifer.

“My King, I beg your forgiveness. May I have a few minutes of your precious attention, please?”

He was a hypocritical sycophant, but he was one of the few demons down here who could read and write reasonably, which predestined him for the job as a scribe and minute-keeper. Nevertheless, he was a real pain in the ass with his constant protocols, motions and reports.

“What is it, Korrok?” Lucifer tapped restlessly on his armchair with his long fingers, not bothering to hide his annoyance.

Korrok stood up, but kept his head low while he pulled several paper sheets from his vest.

“Your Majesty, here’s the overview of the new arrivals. I have humbly taken the liberty of selecting the cases that might be worth your personal attention.”

He handed Lucifer a paper with names, dates and key points of the freshly deceased, some of which were underlined and probably the aforementioned pre-selection. Lucifer skimmed the list. He had to admit that Korrok had done a good job, picking out all the ‘gems’ for him – mass murderers, pedophiles, arsonists, human traffickers and corrupt politicians. Supervising and finetuning their hell-loops would be fun. Well, at least as far as torture could be called fun anyway.

He was still torn inside when it came to his 'devil job'. Part of him was determined to keep it strictly as that – a business he had to do, a role he had to fulfil and a task that had to be carried out. But the other, darker part of him reveled in the suffering of the guilty and found bliss in doling out their punishment, because it was what they deserved. It was just. Finding the balance between these two opposing sides was a daily challenge, especially without the detective there to remind him that he was more than just the devil.

Unaware of the conflicting thoughts of his master Korrok continued with his report.

“The transfer of the lawyers is complete, we’re now working on the bullies and bank robbers. Unfortunately, we’re still several weeks behind in re-ordering the cell inhabitants. May I suggest considering withdrawing more demons from regular torture and temporarily assigning them to the transfer units? At least until the backlog is made up.”

“Alright, double the teams. I want this to be over by the end of this month,” Lucifer ordered. After his return, he had to find out that the sections in Hell, once clearly divided and organized, were a chaotic mess. The demons hadn’t cared which damned soul got in which cell, leading to frequent confusions and mix-ups regarding the proper torture. Since then they had been working on relocating the souls to their correct sections, but it was a tedious work and therefore not very popular.

“As you wish, my King,” Korrok nodded and made a corresponding note. “Finally, I’m unfortunate to inform you that several quarters in the eastern sector are once more demolished after a very inconvenient fight between several rivaling clans. It is to be feared that the battles will spread even further and possibly also include the northern sector, as the clans there apparently exploit the situation and continue to fuel the riots with-”

“Enough!” Lucifer roared all of a sudden, hot anger making him switch to his devil form in an instant, “I won’t listen to any more of this.” 

He was so sick and tired of the constant fighting and brawling, which often led to the destruction of everything they had struggled to rebuild in the ongoing turmoil. In face of his wrath Korrok cowered in fear, waiting for a furious strike that never came as Lucifer merely leaned back on his throne and crossed his arms scowling, his fury being over as fast as it had come.

Slowly Korrok got on his feet, still wary of another outburst of rage from his master. When he was sure that he was at least no longer in danger of sudden disembowelment he asked timidly, “With all due respect, but what are you going to do about the ongoing fighting?”

The glare he got from Lucifer as a response was enough to let him doubt his decision not to drop this topic, but now it was too late to back off. Luckily for him Lucifer had no intention of punishing him for his ineptitude. With a graceful motion he got up and commanded, “Give out my orders. All demons are to gather this afternoon at my palace.”

“Yes, my Lord,” Korrok bowed once more several times, before he left the throne room.

When it was time, Lucifer stepped on the balcony and let his gaze wander over the huge plaza in front of his palace. The vast area was crammed with demons. A cacophony of howls, screams and clatter of weapons filled the air.

“Denizens of Hell, hear my commandment,” Lucifer roared. He waited until the usual buzz subsided and he had the full attention of all his subjects, before he continued, “From now on there will be no more clan fighting.”

His order was met with shocked silence. Since Lilith had created the first demons who had then started to procreate on their own, there had always been different clans. Loose groups of demons, some of which had only a few dozen members, while others consisted of several thousands, similar to the mob or some gangs on earth. They were led by so-called barons, earls or even dukes, but these titles were not official and therefore meaningless. There was no real order, no system or hierarchy among the demons, and the clans had always fought each other for resources, power or simply for finding out who was the better warrior. It was in their nature. Stopping the struggles that had been going on for eons seemed impossible, and yet they had no other choice. Their king had spoken. His word was law.

Lucifer ignored their disbelieving stupor and proclaimed, “Anyone who partakes in further clan battles will be punished by me personally. Anyone who observes a fight and does not intervene will be punished equally. And now, begone!”

Without further ado he turned around and returned to his private rooms. Truth to be told, he had no clue how to permanently ensure that there were no more clan fights. For now his order would be sufficient, but it was only a matter of time until the battles would flare up again. After pondering over this problem for several days he finally sought out those who knew it best: Warlords, commanders, dictators. A few visits in the hell-loops of some of earths former greatest military leaders brought him many helpful ideas on how to control and organize the demons better. Eventually, after developing a promising strategy, the time had come to present his new order of hell.

At his behest the demon crowd gathered once again at his castle. It was unusual for the denizens to be summoned twice in such a short time, and therefore there was a tense silence. They had for the most part adhered to the fighting ban, only a few demons had dared to disregard it and had paid bitterly for it. Now they were waiting anxiously for their king to appear.

When Lucifer finally came out on the balcony, the crowd greeted him with loud chants of ‘Hail king Lucifer!’ until he silenced them with an impatient wave of his hand.

“Heed my command! You will be divided into different divisions and ranks according to your abilities. Every department will be led by a general and receive an unique badge to identify their members. Work obediently and diligently, and you will rise in rank, fail to do your duty and you will be demoted. The respective leaders report directly to me. Their orders will be like mine. Any refusal to obey their orders will be considered treason and punished accordingly. All further information will be provided in due course. Now, disperse and return to your duties!”

He turned to Korrok, who stood behind him at a due distance.

“I have prepared detailed instructions for all demons. Make sure everyone knows about the upcoming changes. I expect my directions to be implemented to the letter. Do not disappoint me.”

“Yes, my Lord. Of course. I'll set to work right away.” With a deep bow Korrok retreated immediately, eager to please his lord.

Lucifer remained on the balcony, letting his gaze wander over the now empty plaza before looking up to the depressing grey sky. What would Dad say if he were here? In the past, he had only reluctantly ruled over hell, trying to avoid his duties wherever possible. But not this time. This time he was willing to make a real effort to be a good sovereign for his people. Would Dad be proud of what he had achieved so far? Would he approve of his endeavors? He really hoped that his current plan of reordering the hell hordes would work. Time would tell, but until then he only could wait and see whether the new order would prove itself.

In fact, it soon became clear that the new system was bloody brilliant. It took a while and many qualifying contests until the best generals had been chosen, and even longer until even the dumbest demon had understood his place and rank, but after all was settled it exceeded Lucifer’s expectations by far. The rogue clan fights subsided, replaced by organized training battles and competitions. The strict chain of command made it so much easier to pass on his orders, increasing both efficiency and obedience. The demons themselves were also satisfied with the new order, seeing as it gave them strength and a new sense of fellowship, and they wore their badges with pride.

It was not long after the new demon order had been permanently established that Amenadiel arrived in hell and coerced the guarding demon into contacting Lucifer. While he waited impatiently for him to come, he walked agitated from side to side, scowling every now and then at the huge gate. It felt like hours since the hideous demon had disappeared into hell to pass on his message to Lucifer. He'd been an idiot to even trust him with this in the first place. He’d probably forgotten the message, or got killed in some foolish fight, or maybe he wasn’t even able to talk to Lucifer directly. Either way, he probably had no choice but to enter hell and look for Lucifer himself.

“Oh come on, Luci. Where are you?” he muttered, clenching his fists as he glared once again at the massive entrance. He was still hoping to avoid entering hell. He hadn’t lied to Chloe when he had told her that he’d never been inside hell before and that it was probably dangerous for him. Of course, he was an angel, an experienced fighter at that, but apart from his wings he was unarmed and therefore not necessarily able to defend himself against thousands and thousands of barbaric demons. On the other hand, he also didn't want to wait out here forever, given the not unlikely possibility that his message hadn't arrived at all. Just when he was about to open the gates and take a first peek inside, the portal opened and Lucifer stepped outside.

But the relief of seeing his brother was soon replaced by bafflement at his  appearance. Instead of his usual tailored suit Lucifer wore a more formal fashion. He had changed his clothing many years ago, keeping his precious suit safely stored away in his bedroom and wearing what could be described best as a royal attire ever since. Amenadiel had never seen him dressed like this before, for he had never visited his brother previously in hell, and when they had met in the past time on earth Lucifer had always worn the human clothes of that period. So his current outfit was all the more remarkable.

The dominant colors of the entire get-up were black and red. A black leather trouser with red stripes along the legs was accompanied by elegant black shoes. The also black silk shirt featured cuffs with lace decoration and a large neckline. A deep red sleeveless coat with broad shoulders, delicate black embroidery and a black inner lining completed the outfit. It was quite impressive, in a majestic and somewhat gothic way. Amenadiel refrained from commenting on the unfamiliar sight, too relieved that Lucifer had come at all.

“Lucifer! I’m glad to see you. I wasn’t sure if this half-witted demon would really deliver my message.”

Lucifer tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “What do you want, brother? I’m rather busy.”

It was strange for Amenadiel to see his brother so formal and business-like, and he wondered briefly if he’d always been like this in hell or if it was a recent development.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt you, but I have important and wonderful news. Actually, it's all Chloe's doing, she did all the work.”

Hearing Chloe’s name hit Lucifer harder than expected, making his insides go hot and cold. It took all his power to not let his emotions show, because giving into his grief, longing and passion would give him nothing but heartache and maybe a migraine.

Amenadiel didn't notice his inner struggle, telling him joyfully instead, “You won’t believe what she found out! The prophecy, they got it wrong. The original is in the same Sumerian book where the text about the flaming sword was written. We’ve had it right in front of our noses all the time. I’ve checked it, and guess what- they’ve translated it wrong, Luci! The actual wording is ‘When the Devil walks the earth and finds his first love, evil shall be dissolved’. Dissolved, not released!”

He looked at Lucifer expectantly, clearly awaiting some enthusiastic or cheerful reaction. When Lucifer kept a straight face, he added, “Don’t you see? You can come back home. To us. To Chloe.”

Lucifer felt a sudden wave of anger. Did he think he was stupid? Or was he torturing him on purpose? He knew what his brother meant, what they were trying to achieve, and it made his decision even harder to uphold. He fought back the burning rage that he felt already behind his eyes and simply shook his head. “No.”

“No? I don’t understand.”

Lucifer sighed. So it was just Amenadiel being dense as usual. Not really a surprise.

“I'm not here because of some millennia-old ambiguous scribble from one of Dad’s deluded followers. I’m here because it’s necessary and because I’m the only one who’s qualified and willing to do this dad-damned job. Unless you've come to volunteer for the position of hell’s king?”

When Amenadiel just looked down embarrassed Lucifer sneered, “Just thought so.”

“Come on, Luci. You know that’s not fair. I can’t leave Charlie and Linda on earth all alone,” Amenadiel tried to explain, but recoiled as Lucifer switched form in a flash and roared with a deep voice, “Don’t you dare tell me about fairness while you are free to live the life you want and I-“

He broke off, closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, transforming back to his human form. “You’d better go, brother, before I forget myself and do something that might make me lose my wings forever.”

Amenadiel was wise enough not to ignore the unspoken threat, raising his hands placatively. “What about Chloe? What shall I tell her?”

Lucifer swallowed hard, but the sudden lump in his throat stayed. He wanted to tell Chloe so much. That he loved her more than anything, that he’d give anything to be with her, that he was proud of her for not giving up and that the pain of disappointing her again was almost killing him. But when he opened his mouth, no words came out. The thought that he was once again causing nothing but suffering made him tremble, and he knew that he had reached the end of his self-control.  

“Tell the detective… tell Chloe, I’m sorry.”

Without another glance at Amenadiel he spread his white wings and disappeared in the air.


End file.
